


milkshake

by rhysgore



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Creampie, Gangbang, M/M, Male Lactation, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 06:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13335663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: Two of the soldiers were standing next to each other near the far wall, staring at his chest and clearly trying to pretend that they weren’t.-this is exactly what you think it is and im sorry





	milkshake

**Author's Note:**

> i have some regrets but not nearly as many as i probably should

He was used to being looked at when he went to the gym. Sam wasn’t an idiot- he knew he had a nice body, and coupled with the fact that most PMCs had never seen him out of his exoskeleton, the stares he got ranged from curiosity, to jealousy, to blatant desire, and everything in between.

 

That being said, there was something  _ different  _ about the looks he’d been getting today. There were only a few other people in the gym when he arrived, dressed in athletic shorts and a thin white tank top. Sam ignored them, heading over to the treadmills to warm up. He had already stretched, body loose and limber as he set the machine to the highest speed and began his jog.

 

Two miles later, he stepped off. There was a light sheen of sweat on his skin, and he was feeling good. It was even quieter in the gym than it had been before. Two of the soldiers were standing next to each other near the far wall, staring at his chest and clearly trying to pretend that they weren’t. He raised an eyebrow in their direction, and they turned away, muttering to each other.

 

_ Whatever.  _ Sam shrugged, and headed over to the weights.

 

There was another PMC waiting by the benches. He looked on the younger side, and his face was a peculiar shade of red as he struggled to keep his eyes off of Sam’s pecs.

 

_ Always with my chest today. Do I have something on my shirt…?  _ Sam thought, frowning.

 

“Do you need a spotter?” The PMC asked, collecting his thoughts at last and pulling his gaze back up to Sam’s face.

 

If Sam was being honest, the attention the soldiers paid to his body whenever they saw it was a point of pride for him. He liked the idea that somewhere within Desperado, there was at least one grunt who, after a long day’s work, would settle down in their tiny cot and jerk off thinking about him. Not one of them dared overstep their boundaries and actually touch him, but their eyes slid over his body like hands, watching and  _ wanting. _

 

The soldier who had offered to help him wanted him too. He was bad at hiding it as well, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he waited for Sam’s response. It was almost cute.

 

“Sure,” Sam said, not missing the way the PMC’s eyes lit up, face still bright red. “I’ll lie down here, and you just- ah- stay on top of me. Just like that.”

 

Smirking at his own innuendo, Sam laid himself flat on the bench, grasping the metal bar and lifting it straight upwards. The blushing PMC watched him carefully, hands attentive as Sam did his reps, one after another, straining under the weight. Exercising had always made him feel good, both physically and mentally- the chemical release of exertion always left him with a tired, pleasantly sore body and a mind that was too exhausted to think about anything that was worrying him. Bench pressing was especially good for his shoulders, something even more important since he’d gotten the prosthetic in the place of his right arm. As he went through the motions of exercise, he could feel his stress ebb away, kinks in his muscles iron themselves out, and an odd, vaguely uncomfortable pressure on his chest that he hadn’t noticed previously, and that he was completely unfamiliar with.

 

Frowning, Sam eased the barbell down and slid out from underneath it, sitting up at the far end of the bench. He could feel his chest  _ tingling, _ almost, like someone was brushing a feather over the muscles there, but there was nothing actually touching his skin outside of his shirt.

 

“Is something wrong?” His spotter asked, watching him with curious trepidation.

 

“I don’t know,” Sam replied, raising a curious hand to his chest.

 

His fingers brushed over a nipple, and immediately he jerked them back, stifling a gasp as a pleasurable rush of warmth jolted through him, traveling from his chest immediately down to his groin.

 

_ What the hell…?  _ He thought, eyes widening as he touched himself again, gingerly. His chest felt bloated, pectoral muscles large, tender, and sensitive in a way they’d  _ never  _ been before. Pulling his hand away again, he noticed an odd wetness on his fingers, something which was decidedly  _ not  _ sweat. Sam looked down- his tank top was soaked through, with large wet patches over his puffy, swollen nipples.

 

That… wasn’t normal.

 

Embarrassment flooded through Sam’s body as he realized that  _ this  _ must have been what everyone had been looking at when they were staring at him. His chest, big, heavy, and leaking all over him.

 

Without thinking about it, Sam licked the pads of his fingers, and his nose wrinkled. Past the tang of sweat, the liquid tasted odd- sweet and heavy. 

 

“Need help with anything?” 

 

Sam had zoned out for a second, concentrating on the strange things happening to his body instead of what was going on around him. When he snapped back, a few of the other soldiers who had been working out as well had abandoned their efforts in favor of circling closer to him. One of them, an older man with heavy scarring on his jaw, had propped a foot up on the bench next to Sam, a lazy display of power as he leaned in closer, blatantly leering at Sam’s pecs.

 

Usually when men wanted him, they were a little more subtle about it. 

 

“As kind as the offer is, I think I am good for the moment,” Sam said, making a move to stand up. 

 

Before he could, someone behind him snaked their hands around him under his arms, and grabbed his chest. It was only a light grope, but Sam couldn’t stifle the loud, embarrassing moan that left him as the sensitive flesh was squeezed. A few of the men around him chuckled, and Sam could feel his cock perk up, tenting the thin fabric of his shorts.

 

“Shit,” he gasped, mouth falling open.

 

“Feels good, huh?” The PMC gave Sam’s all-too apparent erection a meaningful glance. “From the looks of you, you’re due for a good milking.”

 

“...  _ What?”  _ Fingers pinched his nipples, and Sam yelped, half in pleasure, half in surprise as a thin stream of fluid dribbled from them, further soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

 

“You’re lactating, sweetheart,” the PMC behind him said, as if it should have been obvious. “Don’t worry too much about it. We’re gonna take care of it for you.”

 

Sam glanced around him, eyeing up the group of men who had assembled around the bench, who were standing there, watching him with hungry looks in their eyes. As much as he might have wanted to claim otherwise, being the center of attention like this was turning him on. His breath was coming heavy, heavier than it had been at any point during his workout thus far, and when a third soldier came from the side, Sam let him tug the soaked tank top off of his body.

 

“Shit, Rodrigues,” the scarred PMC whistled, reaching forwards to rub over a dripping, messy nipple with his thumb. “It’s a damn shame you keep tits like these hidden away in that armor of yours all the time. Then again, it would be hard to get anything done around here if you didn’t.”

 

“You’re laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?” There were three sets of hands on him now, hands groping his oversensitive pectorals, pinching the sore, reddened buds. “Not t-that I don’t appreciate it.”

 

Speaking complete sentences was more than a little bit of a struggle when every touch made Sam feel like he was going to melt. The warm, tingly feeling in his chest had mutated into something almost unbearably hot, his skin throbbing and desperate for physical contact, which the PMCs feeling him up were all too willing to give to him. A fourth man shoved his friends out of the way, pushing Sam backwards off the bench and onto the gym floor, and Sam didn’t have a second to complain about his bruised tailbone before the man had straddled his waist and started to suckle at a nipple.

 

“Oh,” Sam murmured, eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open. “Yes- just like that.  _ Fuck.” _

 

Someone else was tugging down his shorts, a callused hand circling around his achingly hard cock the moment it sprung loose, and Sam’s hips bucked up into it. 

 

“How does he taste?” One of the other soldiers jeered.

 

“Fucking amazing,” the one mouthing at his swollen chest replied, coming up for air for just a second. His mouth was dripping with white liquid, and he took a moment to lick it off before clamping his lips down on Sam’s nipple again, continuing to suck and lick away anything he could.

 

“Move over, I want a try.”

 

Before Sam could fully register it, another soldier had joined the first, nipping and biting at his other pectoral. He moaned, throwing his head back as the two of them worked his sensitive tits, and heat rushed to his groin, to the twitching, throbbing erection that was being tugged at far, far too slowly and gently to be satisfying.

 

“Do- do you want to fuck me?” Sam gasped, nodding at the PMC kneeling between his legs. The man looked at him wide-eyed for a second, then smirked.

 

“You’re a bit of a slut, aren’t you?” He asked, shaking his head just slightly. “Anyone here got lube?”

 

Someone passed a bottle forwards after a moment, and the man wasted no time spreading it over his fingers, and pushing two of them straight into Sam’s ass, scissoring them without any particular degree of finesse. It stung a little, but the pain of being prepped roughly was more than balanced out by everything else that was happening to him.

 

“Come on, I can take it,” he gasped as a third finger probed his hole, the gentle insistence a far cry from the way the man had been treating him just seconds earlier. “You don’t want to keep me waiting, do you?”

 

“No, sir,” the man replied, pushing the third finger in, spreading all three digits wide.

 

“Good answer.”

 

When he’d decided he’d had enough prep, Sam brushed the two men on his chest off and turned over, getting onto his hands and knees and presenting his stretched asshole to the PMCs standing behind him.

 

“You want it or not?” He asked. Within moments, someone’s hands were on his waist, and a thick, hard cock was pressing up against him, slicked up with lube, just barely teasing his hole. The head rubbed up against him, and Sam moaned, jerking his hips backwards. “Come on. I’m not getting any younger, or any more patient.”

 

Maybe it was the fault of the strange things happening to his body, maybe it was the attention, maybe it was just being teased so much for so long, but when the PMC’s dick slid inside of him, Sam was hard-pressed to think of a more satisfying moment in his life. His tongue lolled out, and he moaned as he felt hips come to rest against his ass.

 

“Fuck me,” he insisted. “Don’t be shy about it.  _ Fuck  _ me.”

 

“God, you really  _ are _ a slut,” someone off to his side jeered, but regardless, the man behind him did as he was asked, hips rolling in long, steady thrusts. Rough enough to shove him forwards with every stroke- just the way Sam liked it. He could feel his heavy tits jiggling beneath him as he was fucked, fingernails digging into his hips, and after a moment, the head of another cock prodding insistently at his lips.

 

Sam glanced up briefly its owner, and was pleasantly surprised to see the shy boy from earlier, the one who had helped him lift. His face was still stained red, but his pants were around his knees, and his intent as he gripped the base of his dick and pushed it towards Sam’s face was unmistakable. Sam’s eyebrow ticked up as he opened his mouth, licking at the leaking tip before taking it into his mouth. The boy moaned softly, hips jerking forwards, and Sam took it, inch by inch until he was swallowing the PMC down to the root.

 

They fucked him in tandem, Sam rocking between the two of them like a kite in a storm. Not content to just watch, the other PMCs joined in any way they could- tugging his nipples, rubbing their cocks against his sweat-covered skin. Someone’s hands were in his hair, which had long since lost the band holding it back in a ponytail, tugging him further down onto the cock in his mouth, holding him there until they actually managed to make him gag, then pulling him off. There were tears of exertion in the corners of Sam’s eyes, but he still smiled as the boy came on his face, leaving streaks of thick cum on his cheeks, forehead, dripping off the tips of his eyelashes.

 

The one fucking his ass followed shortly, and Sam could feel cum leaking out of him for just a second before another soldier took the first’s place, thick cock filling him right back up. He sighed, contentedly, head dipping as the new man picked up where the old one had left off, gripping his waist and pounding into him- rough, forceful, and perfect.

 

By the time most of the PMCs had had their fill, Sam’s hole was messy and loose, dripping wetly down his thighs. His mouth and jaw were sore from being held open so long, his face was streaked with cum, and his cock was still painfully hard. The one soldier who still had the energy left to fuck him was sitting on his stomach with his dick sandwiched between Sam’s pecs, squeezing them as he rutted against Sam’s sternum.

 

The swelling in Sam’s chest had gone down, most of the milk in them having already leaked or been squeezed out. He was still sensitive, though, and having the tender, sore skin worked over this thoroughly was getting to be too much. Sam keened with every thrust, hips bucking, desperate for the extra bit of stimulation he needed to finally, finally come.

 

“You close?” It was the shy PMC from earlier.

 

“Y-yeah.  _ Please,”  _ Sam felt himself whine, in a voice that sounded very little like his own. The PMC smiled at him and reached for his cock, jerking him off in slow tugs while the one on his chest thumbed over his nipples. “Fuck-”

 

With a noise that he would absolutely deny making later, Sam came, spurting semen onto his stomach and the hand stroking him. His muscles tensed up all at once, and then he sighed, smile curling over his lips as the tension released, leaving him feeling gooey and satisfied. The man fucking his chest bucked his hips sharply once, twice, three times before he came as well, splashing Sam’s chin and collarbone with it. Shaking slightly, he slid off of Sam’s body and onto the ground.

 

The seven or so men around him were slumped on the gym mats, most of them too tired to move even an inch as Sam staggered to his feet. With no small amount of pride, Sam realized it was his fault. He’d fucked them to the point of immobility. Laughing, he retrieved his clothes from where they’d been tossed, pulling shorts back onto shaking legs and his shirt back over his shoulders. His entire body was sore- but the pleasant type of sore, a deep, satisfying ache in his muscles. It would probably hurt far more tomorrow, but for now, he’d go ahead and enjoy the lingering sensation.

 

Before he walked out, he turned back to the pile of bodies behind him.

 

“The next time I need a workout like this, I’m sure I’ll be able to find you all again, correct?” He asked. A few faint groans of assent drifted over to him, and Sam smiled. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go shower. Please don’t forget to stretch.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/maverickminuano)


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